


Stories From The Heart

by Miss_Lovelin



Category: Hilda (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, alfur is her dad don't @ me, reposted from fanfiction.net
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 12:16:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19334365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Lovelin/pseuds/Miss_Lovelin
Summary: Hilda can't sleep, so Alfur tells her stories.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Hilda.

The nights were cold in Trolberg.

Hilda lay on her bed, a snoozing Twig by her side, yet she couldn't get herself to sleep at all, no matter how much she tried. She tossed and turned and eventually gave up, glaring at the ceiling in defeat.

Insomnia is merciless.

Rolling to her side, she began to think to herself, having not much else to do when it was so late at night. She started to wonder what was happening back in the wilderness, an ache in her heart looming as memories filled her mind, what might've been if her old house hadn't gotten crushed, how warm and inviting it was to return to after a day of adventuring. She felt an intense nostalgia, almost shedding a few tears before a soft voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Hilda?"

The girl opens her eyes, quickly wiping away any trace of tears before looking towards the shelf where the voice came from.

Alfur gazes back at her, peeping out of his little clock-house on the shelf. His little face was etched with concern, until he looks back at the time on the clock's face, turning his countenance into something more like surprise, perhaps a hint of irritability.

"It's nearly midnight, you know?"

"I know," Hilda replies quietly, before looking back up at the elf, "but what reason do you have for being up this late?"

"Well, if you must know, the Mayor wanted me to write a 10 page summary of the absolute unspeakable horror that is Frida's room nowadays- hey!" Alfur pouts, "don't change the subject!" He slides down a chair leg onto the floor, hopping onto Hilda's bed.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm okay," Hilda lowers her hand for Alfur to climb on, "I'm just having trouble getting to sleep. I've been thinking about the wilderness a lot again."

"Oh..."

"Do you ever miss it, Alfur?"

The little elf steps onto her hand, flailing in mild alarm as she lifts him up.

"S-sometimes. After all, I was born there, too..."

Hilda nods, letting Alfur continue.

"I understand it's not easy leaving a place you're so attached to, but the same will apply to Trolberg, too, if we ever have to leave."

The girl smiles softly, lying back down and putting Alfur down beside her.

"I suppose you're right about that."

She sighs.

"I'm thankful tomorrow is Saturday, otherwise I'd have to go to school without any sleep, I'd bet..."

Alfur tilts his head thoughtfully.

"I think I might be able to help with that."

"Hm...?" Hilda lifts her head slightly.

"Do you want me to keep you company? It gets boring pretty fast when everyone else is sleeping. And knowing you, Hilda..."

The girl chuckles softly, nodding.

"Sure. That's sweet of you."

Hilda turns her head to look back up at the ceiling. As she does, Alfur shuffles closer to her ear so that she could hear him better.

"Oh! We could tell stories! Wouldn't that be fun?"

"If it's not a legend involving paperwork," Hilda smirks.

"But all the best legends involve paperwork!" The elf exclaims, pouting slightly.

"Well, fine. If it's a paperwork-free story you want, it's a paperwork-free story you'll get. But I must say, you're missing out on some pretty juicy real estate contract-"

"Alfur."

"Fine, fine," the elf gently leans against Hilda's ear, evoking her to quiet down and start to listen.

"For an elven legend without paperwork involved in any way, this is quite the exhilarating tale~"


	2. The Elf and the Myling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Hilda.
> 
> Just a note: the parentheses sentences are kind of Alfur's little commentary as he tells his story to Hilda.
> 
> I had to Google the mythology in this haha

"I believe," Alfur starts softly, "I should start with a story about elves and humans. You know, when we met, I was reminded of this one, just a little."

Hilda smiles softly as Alfur clears his throat, gently narrating the story.

"Our story begins at a time long before humans even knew about the existence of us elves. The setting, a little village settled in a cave beneath a waterfall just beyond a human settlement. It was a peaceful place, idyllic for many generations. But the most important thing, (pardon my forgetfulness)- is our heroine- an elf named Mette. She lived in this village, but was always told to stay away from the humans, told that they were the most dangerous of creatures. They felt obligated to stay behind the falls out of fear. But Mette was a curious and undaunted kind of girl- and for an elf who'd spent a majority of her life living beside a roaring waterfall, her sense of hearing was very on point. She never disregarded a cry for help from any creature- not elf, nor vittra, not even trolls. She had hair of gold and a heart of gold and when she heard a distant cry from outside the waterfall, she leapt at the opportunity to help, despite the warnings of her fellow elves.

...Vaguely reminds me of a certain blue haired girl I know, but-" Alfur giggles when Hilda pokes him with her finger lightly to get him to continue, "Okay, okay, I digress.

"So Mette followed the calls down the river beyond the waterfall, rafting on a leaf past the human village, and after some searching, she managed to find the voice crying for help at the river's end: a myling."

"A myling?" Hilda tilts her head, "What's that?"

"Mylingar are the ghosts of abandoned human children that weren't buried properly in death and thus, unable to pass on," Alfur answers, his tone more solemn regarding the creature in question.

"Aw," Hilda murmurs, "that's so sad... but what about the ghosts in the graveyard? They were buried, so..."

"They were buried. So they are free to rest and come back whenever they want. But mylingar don't have that liberty. They are forced to wander until someone kind finds and buries their remains."

Hilda looks down, her eyes flickering with doubt.

"Mmm... This story better have a happy ending."

"Mette called to the myling, telling them simply to follow her voice, as she, being an elf, was invisible to them. They managed to calm down and listen to her, but they were upset that they couldn't see her (but that was probably for the best, as mylingar are known to latch onto travelers and continuously become heavier until they reached a cemetery. I certainly don't think elves can handle that much...).

"Mette learned that the myling was once a girl named Kristy and she had left the human village one day, went exploring, and accidentally drowned in the river earlier in the month. She had been trying to find someone for ages, was scared and simply wanted to find peace (the poor little thing...). She wasn't seeking any vengeance at all. She was just a lost spirit.

"So what does Mette do? She decides to help, of course! She promises Kristy that she will find her relatives and have her remains taken care of, before returning to the waterfall and her village for the night.

"The other elves were cross when they discovered where Mette had gone, but they did, at the very least, relent when Mette promised (once again) that she would never leave the waterfall ever again if she could just help Kristy.

"At the break of dawn that following morning, Mette set off for the human village, invisible to everyone, of course, but her voice could be heard. She began to ask random humans if they had known Kristy, but most mistook Mette for some kind of ghost and ran away out of panic and fear. Some listened, however, and agreed to help, but the fearful villagers greatly outnumbered the calm ones and they ended up cornering Mette and interrogating her instead.

"Mette, however, was patient throughout the chaos. She shouted for them to stop once, and they all froze in silence.

"'I only came to ask where this child's family is," Mette stated calmly, "Please, she needs you."

"The calmer humans sided with Mette, and Kristy's relatives, a father and a sister, stepped forward, pleading for information on Kristy's whereabouts and finally allowed Mette to explain the circumstances. They were heartbroken when they were lead to the place where Kristy had passed, but they wholeheartedly agreed to give her a proper burial."

Hilda smiled.

"When the deed was done, it was nightfall, and Mette came with stalks of lavender to visit the new grave, only to be greeted by Kristy again, rising from the ground, no longer a myling but a regular ghost. She thanks Mette for what she had done for her, and promises to return the favor before returning to her rest. Mette places the lavender flowers on the grave before she leaves.

"By dawn, the elves discovered that the humans had left messages of gratitude and peace on scraps of paper and were given permission to wander the human village whenever they wished. So the colonies spread fast, Mette was honored as the one responsible, and both elves and humans lived in peace together without fearing each other. And, of course, that meant signing the proper paperwo-"

"Hey! You said there was no paperwork in this story!" Hilda starts, her voice in a joking tone.

"Well, I might have lied a little~ At least it was mentioned only once," Alfur replies innocently, "Besides, that was the end. The end!" He twirls around with a small flourish.

"That's a cute story," Hilda whispers, resting her head in her arms while laughing at Alfur's little spin, "You think the elf king might have heard that one?"

"The king doesn't really grasp the lessons of legends, I don't think. But that's the legend about humans and elves getting along and how we started finding new places to live," the elf looks up at Hilda calmly.

"I liked it," the girl answers, "but I hope I never find a myling. I'd feel so awful for them that I couldn't just leave them alone. They sound like they'd be lonely, if they died with no one else around."

"If you ever found one, I'm sure you'd be the one to help it get to where it needs to go," Alfur blinks slowly, a faraway look on his face.

"What's wrong?"

"The thing about telling stories is that we tell them to each other," Alfur smiles, sitting back down, "so I think it's your turn to tell one to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Alfur so much omg
> 
> I apologize if this story seemed a little fast paced or a little all over the place, I really didn't want to let you all wait too long for this (my other story projects are on hiatus).
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed, though.


	3. Fossegrim's Fiddle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Hilda.

"My turn?" Hilda repeats, a laugh in her voice, "But I haven't any stories to tell."

"Well, maybe none come to mind right at this moment, but I'm sure you do. Even if it's something you already told me, like your experiences with the vittra or the weather spirits and the lady who can't brush her hair-"

"Victoria Van Gale," Hilda corrects him.

"Indeed," Alfur nods, "the mad scientist lady who, and I must be blunt, certainly had it coming."

Hilda laughs.

"She definitely got karmic justice for what she did, I'd say." She glances up at the clock.

"It's so late, but I'm still not tired," she muses as she looks back to Alfur, holding out one hand and smiling as he casually rests his head against it, affectionately holding onto her thumb almost as if it were some kind of security object to him, "I guess I was having fun."

"Really?" Alfur's ears perk up slightly, "that's good to know, but... it wasn't quite my intent to keep you up."

"That's all right," Hilda replies, changing her position so she's lying on her stomach with her feet in the air, "You know what? I think I know a story that I can tell you."

"You do!? Yay!" Alfur claps excitedly for a moment before mimicking Hilda's position, swinging his little legs back and forth in a childlike manner. Hilda can't help but laugh again.

"All right. But this isn't really a legend, but more about something that happened to me in the past."

Alfur gasps.

"Am I about to receive the honor of getting to reminisce memories about baby Hilda?"

"Reminisce?"

"Well, you know, our elf colony goes around your house in every direction and has been for many years. We actually... kind of got to watch you grow up, too."

"Oh..." the girl mutters softly, "right, when you were invisible to us..." She seems to be pondering the implications, " You were there too, then?"

Alfur nods.

"We would never invade your privacy without issuing warnings beforehand, so we never snuck into the house, but when we had the chances to, we would observe you when you went outside. Being able to see the kind of person you are beforehand made it much easier to approach you during the whole house eviction havoc. And you were a really sweet little girl."

Hilda blushes in mild embarrassment, hiding her face in her hair.

"I was delighted to see humans back there, though. Your old cabin was abandoned for a long time until your mother moved back in with you all those years ago," the elf muses.

The girl pats Alfur's head lightly with one finger.

"It's a little uncomfortable to be talking about the old cabin right now."

"Oh! Right, right- pardon my scatterbrained behavior!"

"It's okay. I'll just tell you my story."

Alfur sits patiently, giving Hilda apologetic puppy dog eyes while resting his head on her finger.

"Awww," Hilda coos softly, "Alfur, it's fine. Don't be sad." She clears her throat to tell her story.

"A long time ago, when I was three or four, I wandered away from home for the first time by myself. (I like stargazing, you know? Too bad the city is so bright there's barely anything to look at...) Mum had already shown me a way around the woods, so I wasn't concerned at all. When I passed the river that night, though, I heard the most beautiful music playing. From where I stood, a fossegrim was sitting on a rock under the waterfall playing his fiddle, and I couldn't help but sit there for a while and listen, mesmerized by the graceful way that he played.

"A moment had passed and he finally noticed me sitting there, and he asked me if I wanted to learn how to play. I told him no, I only came to listen, but he insisted and put me in his place, putting the fiddle in my hands and holding my right hand over the strings. The fossegrim told me to close my eyes and when I did, I realized I had pricked my finger on one of the strings- but before I could do anything, the fiddle music started playing again. And I, seemingly with no effort, was making that music. It was beyond my control, I believe, but I still felt proud of myself. I even attracted an audience of water spirits. That was the first time I'd ever seen a water spirit, and it was just... incredible until the song was done. The fossegrim took his fiddle back and disappeared back into the river, and the spirits did, too, and I went home still awed by what I had just experienced. It's a memory I still remember vividly. Mum said I may have just dreamt it because the fossegrim hadn't returned since, but I can't believe that."

Hilda shows a small scar on her finger from where the fiddle string had pricked her.

"See?"

Hilda smiles weakly at the memory before her eyes clouded over with melancholy.

"I wish I could've seen that! You must have been wonderful!-" Alfur tilts his head in curiosity, "...Hilda?"

"Trolberg might be my home now, but it's not easy looking back on the memories back at the old house," the girl mutters, looking out the window.

"You can always look back on your memories back in the wilderness, but think of all the memories you made here, too! You did so many things to help the creatures here, I certainly wouldn't be surprised if they gave you some kind of medal- oh-" Alfur is interrupted by Twig softly nudging him with one hoof, pulling him close like some kind of comfort toy.

Hilda gently takes the elf from the sleepy deerfox, putting a soft squeaky toy in his place, which Twig seems to prefer. Alfur sighs in relief.

"I just still feel... I don't know. A little out of place," Hilda finally states, placing Alfur back on her pillow.

The elf glances up at Hilda, for a moment not saying anything, but quietly starts humming to himself until the song escapes him. It's a lullaby-sounding tune, soft and sweet.

"Gamla sidor berättar

Berättelser om antiken

Av hopp och av makt och kärlekens hängivenhet,

Här sitter jag och drömmer om framtiden

Har du skriver ut

Jag gillar också att rekryteras

Och för att bli älskad under en lång tid att dö..."

"What song is that?" Hilda asks, intrigued, "it's pretty! I didn't know your voice was so nice."

"Oh! Um," Alfur blushes, "it's just something... My mother used to sing to me- Ahem," he clears his throat, struggling to change the subject, "it's my turn to tell you a story again!"

Hilda rests her head in her arms, smiling at Alfur.

"You can tell me your story after you sing again."

Alfur pouts, his face slightly red in embarrassment.

"Hmph, fine! Then I'm going to tell you one of my least favorite stories! I mean, I still like it, but it's really kind of... meh..."

"...Does it involve paperwork being left unsigned?"

Alfur jumps in terror.

"Heavens no, Hilda! It's not that terrible!"

The girl giggles softly, laying her head back down on her pillow so Alfur can crawl close to her ear again.

"Sing again first."

"..."

Hilda could sense Alfur's shy irritability without even having to look at him.

"Please? I liked it."

"...Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alfur best tiny dad
> 
> That song Alfur sings is literally just a crude Google translated Swedish translation of the first verse of Kate Covington's Latin cover of "Secret Library Daguerreo" (first song that reminded me of Alfur!) I figured keeping the original Latin wouldn't be appropriate for a creature of Scandinavian folklore. Also I'm lazy. Sorry if the quality is shoddy


	4. A Small Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Hilda.

Alfur had sung to Hilda for a few minutes before the girl's curiosity got the best of her.

"Alfur, what were your parents like?"

The little elf looks up at her in mild distaste, his ears flattening to convey his vexation.

"For someone who really wanted to hear me sing, interrupting my performance is rude, Hilda."

"I'm sorry," Hilda replies, her tone sincere, "I'm just a little curious."

"Mmm..." Alfur's ears twitch slightly in indignation, but he softens up when he looks at Hilda's face. He softly presses one (albeit nonexistent) hand against her cheek for a moment before sitting down again.

"Well," he looks down for a moment, "my childhood was quite long ago, but I remember... I always preferred my mum. My dad wanted me to be tougher and had high expectations for me that I just... couldn't fulfill. My mum encouraged me to pursue what I wanted and liked that I was a naturally... empathetic person, so I was always more comfortable around her."

Hilda smiles.

"I like how kind you are, too. I never knew my father, but you sort of remind me of one. I mean, like... how I'd think a dad would be like, if I had one... ideally."

Alfur laughs. It was kind and gentle, which made Hilda feel more at ease divulging that information, but disconcerted her after the moment. He likely hadn't meant it to be, but it sounded a bit belittling to Hilda.

"Really?"

The girl nods lightly, moving her blue bangs out of her eyes.

"You do." She nervously scrambles to find words to explain, "I know it sounds silly, but you just have everything I would imagine my dad was like. But knowing he left me and Mum behind, even if he did come back somehow, I think... I think I'd still prefer you, you know? Like... like...-"

"Hilda," the elf starts, smiling warmly, "you know, it's a little funny, and all the other elves back home would certainly find it strange, but I do think of you as a daughter to me sometimes."

Hilda blinks in surprise.

"It's nice getting to know you and talk to you like this," Alfur continues, "before we met properly, I'd never have expected to be standing in the palm of the hand of the 'Giant Girl'," he does a funny imitation of the elf king's voice and mannerisms, "'sworn enemy of elfkind!'... and not be afraid in the least. It's what other elves say about humans in the county that makes others so fearful, but humans- and giants- you're not monsters. We're all the same. The only difference is size.

"Now, you... regardless of what I was told, seeing you growing up was a wonderful thing. I knew I couldn't interact with you, but I was still proud of every milestone you made. I remember telling the others, 'the little human has learned to walk', and everyone started to panic and barricade their houses."

Hilda giggles.

"But I can't even touch the houses without having signed a contract."

"Exactly! That's what made it so funny," Alfur beams, jumping onto Hilda's hand and planting a soft little kiss on her forehead, "the only problem is, keeping you out of trouble is pretty difficult when you're about ten times my size.

"You know what? I'm happy we got to talk about that, so I'm not going to tell you my least favorite story, but my most favorite one of all!"

"...There's a lot of paperwork in this one, isn't there?" Hilda watches Alfur as he jumps down and sits close to her ear again.

"Actually, not that much," Alfur answers, his tone soft and soothing, "It's not the main focus, anyway. It's a story my mother told me, so I think it's special. It's actually something she experienced herself. She was a little eccentric, but I'd say that's what made her so wonderful, you know?

"The fact that we are invisible to those who don't sign the contracts can be a good thing, if we made the very best out of it.

There comes days where day-to-day life just gets a little boring. You have to get out and live a little. So what my mum did... she went to a human town, and started acting as the "conscience" of people who seemed to be having trouble. They couldn't see her, of course, but she could talk to them."

"Your mum was brave," Hilda states.

"Like you, in a way, then," the elf replies simply, chuckling to himself.

"She did this with a variety of people. To them, she was just a little voice in their heads, and she advised them what to do to solve the problems they had."

"Her advice couldn't have always worked, though?" The girl inquires.

"Oh, no, no, of course not. No one is perfect! You get a few hits and a few misses, but she was smart. She had experience observing humans. Not only did she take regular trips to Trolberg, but she was also around when your great grandfather constructed your old home, so-"

"But that was decades... a century, maybe? A century ago!"

"Elves regularly can live up to 1000 years minimum, Hilda."

The elf could almost see the glimmer of interest in the girl's eyes flickering when he said that. A little impressed "woah" escapes her lips.

"Then how old are you?"

Alfur tilts his head, giving Hilda an unamused look.

"...Quite a bold question for you to ask, isn't that?"

"I'm sorry- that was rude. Please, continue."

"There was once a man who my mum had met who was extremely bitter and pessimistic about everything. There was nothing that he couldn't complain about. He went through life with the most negative outlook and nobody had ever even seen him smile.

"So my mum asked him what the point of being so upset was, and he answered that he was mad at the world for being so cruel. The news only read of bad events that happened, and even on bright and sunny days, there would still be someone suffering.

"'That might be true, but good things can happen, too,' my mum told him, 'you must know that life is full of ups and downs and nothing good will come of being sad all of the time. You cannot forget the bad things that happen, but you need to remember, there is happiness just around the corner if you look. Sometimes, you have to be the good that you can't find in the world. If you can't find anyone kind, be one. That's how it spreads, and it gets paid forward. And the more you do good things, the more light there will be in this dark world, and maybe more people would be inspired by your example.'

" He asked what good only a single person can do for the world.

"'One person can be the spark for a thousand people to act. One person can do so much more than you think. Even small people. Little things matter, too. Little things matter a lot.'

"She repeated this with many people she came across, and it left a positive impact on the people of Trolberg. They chose to be more kind.

"None of those people she spoke to are alive today, but I'm sure their spirits would remember," Alfur muses, looking out the window.

"That's really sweet," Hilda comments, "she did it just to help people. Some folks just need some encouragement and sometimes they can't just give it to themselves."

The girl and the elf smile at each other quietly, both of them affected by mild fatigue. Hilda jolts up, lifting Alfur up. He gazes up at her in surprise at her sudden energy.

"New idea: one more story."

"One more?" Alfur echoes.

"Yeah, but let's just make it up as we go along, you know? I tell it with you. I can tell, we're getting tired, but... I'm still having fun."

The elf half smiles, yawning.

"Then you start."


	5. Love is...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Hilda

"Okay, let me see..." Hilda muses, rolling onto her side.

"We start with a... troll. No, a robot troll! And he can't find his... wallet, because a vittra threw it into a volcano... and also stole his girlfriend."

Alfur simply stares at Hilda in concern, his face blank.

"...Are you okay." His tone was completely flat. It didn't even sound like a question. He wasn't sure whether to be appalled or impressed.

"I'm fine," Hilda mutters, "I guess I'm not very good at beginnings."

"N-no, you're all right. It takes a lot of practice to just tell a story on the fly. Actually, I think only a liar could come up with a whole story on the fly."

The two of them jokingly give each other serious looks for a moment before Alfur speaks up again.

"...Now, continue your tale about the endeavor of the rabid troll-"

"Robot troll."

"I said that."

Hilda sighs, smiling as Alfur rests his head on her hand, a warmth spreading through her heart when he smiles back, ears perking slightly as if to tell her he's listening.

In the back of her mind she wondered what it would be like to be able to hug him normally.

"The robot troll is named Bob."

"Bob," Alfur repeats flatly, unimpressed.

"Short for Estebob Julió Ricardo Montoya de la Rosa Ramírez."

"I- what?"

"He likes it, Alfur. He's very proud to have that name, it is from his great great grandfather's aunt's cousin. Twice removed."

Alfur blinks twice, silent, tilting his head and hurriedly readjusting his hat when it nearly slides off. He sighs to himself.

"I think I see what your game is here."

Hilda freezes.

"Game?"

"Indeed," Alfur answers, standing up, "and might I add-"

He suddenly changes to a more playfully menacing stance.

"The vittra is none other than the king of flames, who rises from the magma of the earth to wreak havoc on the surface -and steal their wallets-"

"And girlfriends."

"And girlfriends- just because he can! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Hilda gasps and applauds.

"Wow, Alfur! That was a really good evil laugh! Didn't know you had it in you. I think all you might've needed was some dramatic lightning. Where's Raven when you need him?"

"Eh, it's pretty boring in the northern counties, so it never hurts to brush up on your acting skills!"

"True, true. Anyway-" the young girl wraps her arms around her pillow in a hug, "Bob has to fight ten ridiculously strong ninja warriors before he can fight the king of flames, and the first guy is literally just a carrot and can't even lift a sword, so Bob gives him a swift, um... boot to the head."

Alfur's ears twitch slightly, his mouth forming a straight line.

"Boot to the head," he echoes, "that sounds... uncomfortable. And why is the first 'warrior' a carrot?"

"Carrots are the enemy of mankind! Along with Brussels sprouts. They fought in the war to destroy everything but the cucumbers won and liberated us from the shackles of despair."

"...Uh-huh."

Hilda's either really tired or really hyperactive right now, Alfur thinks to himself. Either way, it was nearing 3 AM and this was probably quite enough stimulation for the both of them. His original goal was to help Hilda fall asleep and it dawned on him that he had gotten so caught up in the moment that he had forgotten about that.

Hilda continues to narrate a jumbled up mess of a plot impossible to follow. Alfur doesn't interrupt, rather watching her and pretending to keep listening to be polite as he slides off of the bed and climbs back up to the shelf. It took a moment for the child to notice he had even moved.

"What are you doing?" She sounded disappointed.

"You'll see in a minute," Alfur replies calmly, "don't worry, keep going."

Hilda rubs her eyes.

"Actually, I... forgot where I was..." She glances at the face of the clock door when Alfur opens it, facing her directly. Realizing the lateness of the hour, she nearly tumbles out of the bed.

"3 AM? It didn't feel that long..."

She watches curiously as the elf hops back onto the bed, a few tiny papers in hand (stick-hands?).

He just laughs.

"Happens to the best of us, I suppose," he muses, glancing at the clock and back at the girl with a kind yet solemn gaze, "...pardon my language, but that's going to stink in the morning." He covers his mouth.

"'Stink' is not a naughty word," Hilda stifles a laugh.

"But it sounds so negative! I highly dislike words like that," Alfur remarks, sitting down. Hilda lays down beside him, peeking at the papers in his hands.

"You know what these are?" Alfur asks, his tone warmer than before. Hilda feels that sweet feeling in her heart again, like there were a part that was broken or missing and it was finally starting to heal.

"What are they?" she asks softly. The words slipped out sounding very innocent, almost as if Hilda were younger than she actually was, but Alfur doesn't seem to notice.

"Reports I've been sending back home. You know, the other elves are curious about you, too. Even if they were afraid of you, they did care."

Hilda nods slightly.

"A little time away from there and I think they might understand -or remember, perhaps- now, you and your mother deserved to live there as much as they do. They miss you. They want to know how you're doing, at your school, with your friends... after all, they watched you grow up, too. And I think seeing you leave the wilderness taught them that."

"I wouldn't choose anyone but you," the girl whispers.

Alfur's ears twitch.

"Hm?"

"If I could have chosen any one of the elves to go with me, I want you to know that I would always choose you. I'm happy to know that the other elves cared, but I know you're the one with the biggest heart."

Alfur smiles, his face flushing a soft pink.

"And I'm happy to have chosen to go with you."

He gives her a light kiss on her nose.

"Do you want me to read what I wrote?"

Hilda nods.

The elf clears his throat and quietly reads.

"I'm happy to share with you the marvelous growth of Hilda in these past months- not just in height, but also as a person, in strength of character, and growing compassion for all things..."

The girl listens to his gentle voice, smiling softly as she curls up under her blanket, Twig nuzzling close to her. She found it paternal in nature and soothing to listen to, just knowing he was nearby was enough.

She was finally lulled (partially) to sleep, resting one hand near Alfur, though one finger was all he could manage to hold for her.

"Good night, Hilda," he whispers.

"G'nite, Da...fur..." Hilda mutters, half asleep but poorly attempting to fix her so-called mistake midsententence.

The elf chuckles softly, about to get up before realizing he was stuck in Hilda's grip.

Smiling and shrugging, he just nuzzles into a tangle of blue hair and eventually falls asleep too.

The night was eventful, even if they stayed inside- there'd always be a wonderful story to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading til the end!


End file.
